The Talent Show
by bentenren
Summary: A story about an interest on a famous guitar player from an AMAZING band. How a simple show can also go so far.


The Talent Show

The morning started out like every other morning, the room was cold and outside was foggy. And it didn't help that the alarm clocks' ring sounded more annoying than Justin Bieber's voice. RINGGGGGGGG! My hand swept for the snooze button, but instead knocked over the millions of CD's I had stacked so neatly.

"Ugh, why did I ever think of placing them right next to this damn clock. I can be so stupid."

This time, I kicked the covers off to press the off button. The mornings are always cold, and my mom isn't awake yet. The sun didn't look like it wanted to wake up either; outside was cloudy. Today was the day of the 10th Annual Music Talent Show. I was honored to be one of only 20 contestants to be performing. The winner of this year's show is going to be awarded two things: 5 tickets to see greenday live, and a pass to meet exclusively one on one with the lead singer, Billie Joe Armstrong. He is my hero, my man, my crush since god knows when.

After I brushed my teeth and fixed my hair, I rehearsed for the last time the song I was going to play in the afternoon. The song I would be playing was "quicksand" by The Story So Far. I close the door and 15 seconds into the song, my mom comes crashing in.

"Daylor Tua! Would you be so kind as to rehearse OUTSIDE, and not wake the entire house hold up?"

"Sorry mom. It's just that this competition is very important to me", I reply hastily.

My mom had always disliked the fact I played the guitar in my room often. She shot me a disapproving look, and left. I continue playing the song, and finish it off perfectly. Don't get me wrong, the butterflies are still fluttering in my stomach, but I have this feeling today that the audience will like my performance. I smile at the big poster of Billie Joe in my bedroom, and in that poster, he smiles back. Suddenly, my phone rings. It is a text from an unknown number, reading 908-256-5648.

"Daylor, good luck later at the show. I will be watching and cheering you from the crowd."

"OK..." I said out loud. Who is this creepy person who knows my number? God only knows. Glancing at the clock, my heart nearly missed a beat as I realized there was only an hour left before the show. At that same moment, my mom's voice screamed from the second floor.

"DAYLOR, ARE YOU READY YET?

"YES MOM, JUST UHHH, FIXING MY HAIR RIGHT NOW!" I grab my guitar case, and put on my favorite pair of electric blue socks. As I hurried out the door, I took one last glance at the poster of Billie Joe. He was smiling at me as usual. Every time I gaze at that picture, those eyes, it gives me this indescribable energy. So powerful it makes me feel warm.

Half an hour later, my mom parked in the huge lot of Rutgers football stadium. There were tents serving Italian ice and hot dogs. My phone suddenly rang again, but this time it was a text from my best friend.

"Dear Daylor, good luck with your performance girl. I know you will rock the night. love you 3"

My fingers race to text back, but out of the corner of my eye, a dark figure caught my attention. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and opened a door. I began to feel very suspicious; his actions looked a lot like that of a burglar or a common criminal. I was about to call for my mom to look, but at that last second he turned around. My eyes widened, my heart beat faster than Tre Cool's drums. It was Billie Joe Armstrong. Yes, my hero, my love, my everything was literally less than 50 feet away. I understood why he acted so slick; Billie didn't want anyone to notice he was there. Otherwise, that would have been a major distraction. I don't want to see how I looked like at that moment, because all of a sudden he spotted me. His eyes sparkled, and he slowly raised one finger to his lips and nodded. I felt dizzy. My hero is making eye contact with me. I stand there, paralyzed, lost in that time and moment.

As fast as it started, it quickly ended. Billie put his hand down and slipped into the door. Was it my imagination? It could not have been. It was too real, my heart strings felt it.

"Mom, could you watch my stuff for second? I have to use the bathroom."

I walk over to the building where Billie had slipped in. Reaching for the door, my heart dropped as I realized that it was locked."It was less than a minute ago when he slipped in, and I didn't see a key. How did he get in?" Frustration and mysteriousness swept through my veins. I was starting to walk back to my mom when an orange post it note caught my attention. It was almost on the floor, similar to litter. I bent down to pick it up, and there were words on it.

"If you see this, text the number 908-256-5648."

That same number that messaged me this morning. "This can't be a coincidence," I thought to myself. I'm not sure what brought me to do it, but I reached for my phone and responded to the number.

"You messaged me?"

Almost as soon as I hit the send button, the unknown person responded.

"You saw me enter. Thank you for not being one of those fan girls who would scream and blow my disguise. "

My heart began to race again. This can't be Billie. I walk to a corner where no one can see me.

"You are not Billie. You can't be."

And again, almost as fast as the previous message, he replied.

"Perhaps. I thank you again for your silence."

My thumbs are twitching so much I can't even write the sentence. I thought I was alone, and when that voice came out from behind me, I screamed.

"It is me."

Spinning around, I fell. Billie Joe Armstrong stood as still as a statue, gazing at me. My voice cracked as I struggled to find the right words.

"Mike, I mean Tre, no Bill.."

Billie still gazed at me. He reached out to me, and I took his hand. In a swift motion, he pulled me to my feet. My heart was going to explode.

"You have lots to tell me. Why don't we head back to my place and we can have a little chat before your performance."

Billie turned around, and started walking. I knew at this point he wasn't an imposter, his voice and face was too real. I followed him into a lone building, and into the elevator.

"Billie, I"

"Not now, let's reach my apartment first."

His room was on the third floor, and looked expensive. The room had an excellent view of the boardwalk. There was a bottle of cognac on the table, and a pack of Marlboro red's. Billie took off his jacket and threw it in a chair. I couldn't hold in my questions anymore.

"How did you find me?Where did you get my number?"

He reached for the bottle of cognac and poured himself a glass. Sipping it slowly, his eyes turned to me and shrugged.

"I am not too sure myself. But you see, you were able to spot my disguise, I passed over 10 girls who were all wearing greenday shirts, saying they couldn't wait to see me and such, and not one noticed."

He took a swig from the glass again, but instead of settling it down, Billie slammed the glass onto the floor. There was an ear piercing shriek as the glass shattered into a million pieces. I begin to feel uneasy, I have seen him lost it on stage before, I don't want to see it happen live especially with me in the room.

"Wha-wha what did you just do that for?"

"I'm so sorry you had to see that missy."

He smiled for the first time, that handsome smirk that I have grown to adore.

"What is your name?"

"Daylor. Daylor Tua.

Billie nodded. I look down at the pieces of glass on the floor, each showing the reflection of him. His hand next reached down to his studded chrome belt. I watched him remove it slowly and carefully, each stud shining like diamond in the afternoon sun. My heart was thumping in nervous, but exciting way.

"What's wrong, Billie?"

"Daylor, before your performance I just want you to relax. Play as though you are singing for me, not just to win the prize. "

My head starts spinning again. My heart beats faster than a machine gun. Billie stands there with his dark shirt, studded belt in hand. He moves closer. I sit where I am, mesmerized by my hero. He held his hands out to me.

"Tie my hands together."

I think I was hypnotized, because against my will, my hand took the studded belt and tied his hands together tightly. His eyes never left mine, and he never smiled. His face remained that same, surprised expression. He sat next to me, his hands tied by that chrome studded belt. I am lost in his eyes, and before I know it my lips are against his. I totally forget that this is my hero, my everything, my whole world. Billie stopped kissing me, and leaned over to my neck and bit it. Hard. Normally I would have screamed, but this was different. I kissed his lips back, and dug my finger nails into his back.

My fingers clawed hard, I could feel it. But Billie didn't even budge, continuing to bite my neck and put his lips to mine. I reached for his pants, and was halfway through with unzipping his pants when I felt his tongue go into my mouth. The smell of cognac was strong, so was its taste. I begin to take off his pants when Billie stops. His tied up hands took mine, which were reachable since there were by his pants.

"Go out and rock the audience. Sing for me, make them scream and cry. Cause tonight, there is no one but you and I. Good luck Daylor. My beating heart belongs to you. I walked for miles till I found you."

And with that, his skilled arms snap the belt in half. He brings me to my feet, and with his hand on my back, squeezing my shoulders, he leads me to this small door. With one shove, Billie pushes me onto the stage. Somehow, my guitar and chair are already there. I turn around to say something to him, but Billie had disappeared. I walk to my seat, and pick up my guitar. 15 seconds into the "Quicksand", I see him in the judges seat. Mike and Tre are there too. But Billie never stopped gazing, and I never stopped smiling back. He shoots me that adorable smirk; I do the same.


End file.
